fading into the background
by AshleyDaughterofApollo
Summary: He didn't want to be that bad guy, the one everyone hates at weddings, the one who wishes the wedding hadn't come to exist. But just watching her made him miserable. OR, Annabeth is marrying someone else. (AU, light lemon, Percabeth)


She looked nervous.

Percy had been friends with Annabeth long enough to know what she'd be feeling when her hands shook. Or when her lips were curved in a smile, but a different kind of smile. Or when she clung to her fathers arm as they walked slowly, so slowly down the aisle.

She wasn't ready. She knew that. He could tell when she locked eyes with him. They brightened from their dullness and she flashed him a quick smile, a real one that time, then glanced away back to the area the groom was supposed to be standing.

Annabeth stood beside the preacher as her father sat in one of the very empty aisles. They were at a very last minute wedding "rehearsal," in the reception hall of the prestige Hotel they reserved in Tahiti, at ten at night. Annabeth wanted to make sure everything would go smoothly, and Percy went along to help her, going so far as to unregrettably waking up the preacher for the ceremony to help sooth her nerves. Bennett was on a flight with his parents to help them get settled, but he promised he'd be there the morning go the wedding.

She shouldn't be marrying Bennett tomorrow. And to make it worse, Percy was his friend. Not close enough to be the best man, or close enough to be a groomsman, but close enough to be invited to a wedding so small in a small hall. Yet again, Annabeth did ask him to be her "Bro of honor" and Percy laughed and asked her if she was serious before accepting.

Annabeth and Bennett met in their sophomore year in college. Percy introduced Bennett, who was his roommate, to Annabeth, his best friend since high school. There wasn't really an instant click but they did end up hanging out a lot. Which turned into dating after he asked her out? And because of that, they barely saw each other anymore. He was used to hearing, "Percy and Annabeth," but now it was "Percy, and Annabeth," or "Bennett and Annabeth." However, he was still her best friend and he wanted to be there for her no matter what.

There were moments where he thought that maybe, he and Annabeth would actually become a thing; sometimes when she'd slide her hand in his whenever they were out for coffee, or she'd snuggle against him during the few movie nights they'd have together, or maybe it was even the drunken kiss—the best night of his life—they shared before she and Bennet had gotten engaged that he assumed she had forgotten, because they left it unspoken.

But nothing had come out of it.

Percy swallowed down his jealousy as she focused her attention to the task at hand. Tomorrow, Bennett would be smiling down at her—the expression every groom would wear proudly— as if Annabeth were a million dollars. And she was worth a million dollars to Percy.

He didn't want to be that bad guy, the one everyone hates at weddings, the one who wishes the wedding hadn't come to exist. Bennett didn't deserve Annabeth and neither did Percy, but there was always that part of him that knew Annabeth deserved more than Bennett and he wanted to prove that he was the perfect man to give Annabeth what she deserves. But it was too late.

"And then, here's where you say your vows," The preacher said.

Annabeth's cheeks flushed red, and she nodded to the preacher. Her hold on the card she wrote her vows on was tight. Annabeth hadn't read her vows to anyone, not for assistance, review, nothing. Not even to Percy himself.

"I'll read them tomorrow, it isn't finished." She said.

The preacher nodded. "Very well. After the vows are the exchange of rings, the main vows, and then you're married by the power vested in me."

Annabeth took a deep breath. The preacher patted her shoulders taking her sigh as a nervous bride type of sigh, but Percy saw right through her—something was wrong.

"Everything will be fine, Ms. Chase. I will see you right here this time tomorrow," The preacher said, before exiting the room.

Annabeth turned to her father and Percy meekly. "I think I've gotten it all down packed." Mr. Chase engulfed his daughter in a deep hug and she returned it half-heartedly.

"You think? Where's my daughter, the one who doesn't think, but knows?" He joked.

Annabeth chuckled. "Dad, my wedding's tomorrow. Let me be off, just for a bit."

Mr. Chase kissed her forehead. "You'll look amazing. I'm so happy for you munchkin, even if it's a lowlife, unsuccessful idiot, you'll be marrying."

Percy had always liked Frederick. Frederick was the first person to find out, besides his mother, that Percy liked Annabeth. He never supported her engagement with Bennett. But, he loved his daughter dearly. If she was happy, he was happy. And it was like that for Percy.

Annabeth frowned, "Dad, you promised you would stop insulting him."

Frederick scoffed, "No, I promised I would stop insulting him to his face."

"Dad!"

Her father simply laughed and pulled away from their long hug. "If only your mother could see you," he whispered, holding her cheeks. "She'd be so proud of you."

A tear slid down her eye. "Thanks."

"Okay, so I will see you early tomorrow for breakfast, have fun at your bachelorette party tonight. Mr. Jackson, I'm expecting you to watch out for her."

Percy grinned. "Always, Mr. Chase."

They had this long running joke of call each other by their surnames. The first time Percy met Mr. Chase, he'd been intimidating as most fathers usually are. But at the end of the night, he told Percy to call him Frederick, but Percy wouldn't stop calling him Mr. Chase, so Mr. Chase calls him Mr. Jackson.

With a wink, he left the hall room.

Annabeth clutched her planner (always a planner) and glanced at Percy. "You _do_ know I'm not going to that party right?"

Percy didn't even know why she has asked. Earlier today she gave Piper her bachelorette sash just for all the free events and drinks at the club five floors down. Piper hadn't come with a date, so Annabeth wished her well on getting lucky tonight.

"Of course you aren't," he agreed. "You're going to try on your dress to make sure it still fits."

She wrinkled her nose, full of pride. "I'm not. I was going to take a bath and go to bed."

~.~.~

About fifteen minutes later, Percy was perched on a comfy couch in Annabeth's suite waiting for her to step out the bathroom from putting on her dress—just for her to make sure everything was fine, according to Annabeth.

"No, no, no!" He could hear her muttering on the otherwise of the door.

"What? Did you get toothpaste on it or something?"

He could hear soft sniffles and he froze in the chair, a strong broken-hearted feeling seizing his chest. Percy had only heard Annabeth cry twice before in his life, once when her mom had died and he offered his shoulder to her at the funeral, and the other when she had broken her wrist, and couldn't draw for over two months.

Annabeth had always been a strong person, and she didn't cry for just _anything._ He stood up and leaned against the door, the shadow of her feet loomed through the bottom crack of the door.

"Annabeth, what's wrong," he pleaded gently.

He heard her gasp through the door and a chocked sob. Percy shook the door knob, but it was locked.

"Wise Girl," he tried again.

"Yes?" She whined.

"Why are you crying?"

She could hear her gulp and agitation in her voice. "I can't get the zipper up."

He tried to hold back a laugh, knowing it wasn't the best time to. "You're crying because you can't get the zipper up? Why didn't you just ask for help?"

He heard the padding of her feet move from closer to the door and then the door clicked open. Percy pushed it open and Annabeth was staring at herself in the large mirror.

Her nose was red, and her lower lip quivered insatiably. "Can you just zip it up?"

He couldn't move, for he was mesmerized.

"Percy, get out, or zip up this god damned dress!" She demanded. He tried not to let the sight of her smooth curves distract him. She looked _amazing_ in white. Like really amazing. And not only did she manage to look extravagant in a long white dress, one that accented her curves perfectly, but she looked regal and carried herself impressively.

And just watching her made him miserably. Annabeth was supposed to be _his._ She should be wearing this dress for _him_ and not Bennet. He was supposed to watch her walk down the aisle in perfection, and he was supposed to slide a ring on her finger, and he was supposed to be her _husband._ She was supposed to be his wife. Everything was messed up, and he couldn't help but swell with jealousy.

"Annabeth—"

"Forget it, I'll try again myself!" Somehow, she managed to zip up the side of the dress, and then she flattened it out before her.

He'd heard of the huge bridal freakout before weddings, but this was Annabeth. She was the most levelheaded person Percy had ever met and hear she was—freaking about the most important piece of the wedding. The dress.

Annabeth had been saving up for her wedding dress ever since her engagement to Bennett. All those extra shifts and late nights at the architecture firm paid off. She looked perfect in it, beyond perfect. She was extraordinary. The dress was simple, beautiful ivory silk fashioned into fabric that hugged ever inch of her skin—he so wanted to rip it off.

Thoughts began to drift into his head. Thoughts of running his hands down her back, palming her ass, kissing her lips, sucking her smooth skin, taking her against the counter, _worshiping_ a goddess who deserved everything she wanted—She just was so desirable, and he couldn't help the tingling feeling below his stomach.

She let out a small sob and covered it with her fist.

"Wise Girl, what's wrong?" Percy reached for her shoulders and turned her around to press her against his chest. Annabeth weeped into his shirt and Percy felt guilty for focusing more on the fact that she was in his arms rather than that she was crying over her dress that was for Bennet.

"It's all wrong!" she cried. "That's what's wrong! It's not right!"

Now he thought this girl was seriously delirious. "What could possibly be not right? Annabeth, you look—you look indescribable in that dress!"

She let out a humorless laugh and pulled away, pacing. "I _feel_ indescribable. I should feel like the luckiest girl in the world right now."

Percy sighed taking a step closer to her shaking form in front the mirror. "Then why don't you?"

"Because!" She cried out angrily, turning towards him quickly. "Can't you see? I don't want this, I don't want any of it! I don't want to hurt Bennet, but—"

Her words smacked him in the face like whiplash. Was she having...second thoughts?

Despite his hopefulness he said, "Annabeth, it is probably just cold feet."

Her grey eyes were blazing, "I'd know if I'm having cold feet or not! But Percy, I don't think I can do this!"

She stepped closer to him and he could smell the lemony scent of her hair which made him woozy and he wanted to drown in her.

"Annabeth, what are you talking about?"

"You know, _exactly_ what I'm talking about," she challenged, their noses almost pressing together. "I think you know _exactly_ why I don't know what I want anymore and it's your fucking fault, because you won't get out of my head."

And it was those words that made him think back to when he looked at her earlier in the hall, and he saw it in her eyes that she wasn't ready. And she knew she wasn't ready herself.

So he took initiative, or maybe she did. But the tension had taken over, and he took her lips with a desperate kiss that had been like a ticking time bomb, waiting to happen at the worst possible moment. Annabeth returned it eagerly, clutching one hand to his hair and the other latching onto his button down.

She tasted like her usual strawberry lipgloss and a bit of Moscato. She smelled like heaven in a bottle he had finally uncorked. But his emotions had uncorked as well.

Instead of the slow kisses he had always dreamed about with Annabeth, with this fire raging inside him, they were passionate, fast, teeth clanging, rough kisses. He broke away from her to bruise his lips against her neck and back up to her jaw, as she began to unbutton his shirt. The stirring at built all the way up in his pants, and crotch ached with need.

No, he wasn't going slow. He had one moment, to show Annabeth how he felt, and he was going all out. He didn't even have the strength to make it last as long as he should have.

Annabeth tightened her grip on his hair and he groaned her name. He took the sweetheart neckline and pushed it down to her waist, right along with her bra, and he hugged her creamy skin when he took her lips again, tongues clashing.

Annabeth finally unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders, Percy pulling away to let it drop to the floor. Her fingers trickled down his chest and he felt her tremble the closer they drifted to his belt buckle. Percy took her breasts in his hands, the pads of his thumbs dragging across the hard stubs of her nipples, and he reveled in the mewls that passed through her lips, against his mouth.

"The dress—off, take it off," she muttered, pressing open-mouthed kisses against his jaw.

Percy clutched her waist and forced the tight thing down past her waist, leaving a large white puff of fabric on the tiled floor. He lifted her in his arms and she wrapped her free and longlegs around his waist, grinding against his—god, it felt amazing.

Somehow he made it out of the bathroom without bumping into anything, and he plopped her onto her bed.

She gazed up at him with lustful eyes, and her hair was sprawled across the lush comforter like a halo. Percy took in her in, lingering on every part of her body. Her lips were plump and red, and her eyes were hooded. Her breasts heaved deeply, and her lace underwear begged attention. He started at her breasts, kissing between them, taking them into his mouth without hesitation, and moving down, down, lower her body. He bit against her under breasts, drew his tongue along her abdomen, and moved faster the closer he got to her lower region. He caressed her thighs, wherever his fingers touched, his lips found soon after.

When his tongue lapped at her wet folds, her gasp and shrieks were music to his ears. "Percy, shit!" She grasped the sheets and arched her back.

He sucked and nipped at her clit and slipped a finger inside her. His other hand reached for her breast and Annabeth pulled his head up, and kissed him. She pushed his belt aside with a free hand, and took his member in her hands, making him grunt. She pulled down his jeans and he had to help her, all while she stroked him quickly. It took a lot of willpower not to come apart in her hands.

When his jeans slipped past his feet, he pressed Annabeth down into the bed, caging her head with her arms, and thrusted inside her without warning. Annabeth clawed at his back, gaping into his neck. She squeezed him like a glove, and he saw stars.

"Yes," she breathed.

He took hold of her waist and pumped into her, already knowing he wouldn't last. Annabeth clung to him like a koala, her head thrown back as he drove her to an edge.

"Percy, uh, don't—don't stop," she cried into his neck. He sucked at her throat, the pleasure taking him on a rollercoaster ride he would never want to end.

"You're mine, Annabeth. _Mine_ , you hear that," he growled in her ear, biting it at the end of his claim, marking her as his.

He tweaked at her nipped and her breath hitched beyond her moaning and squeals of pleasure.

"Oh god, yes!" She shuddered in his arms and he linked their fingers together, looking into her eyes with a tender expression on his face. Annabeth locked eye contact, her mouth popped open, a hand pressed against his cheek.

"Let go, Wise Girl," he gritted his teeth, the feeling of her against him, pushing him past his limit, coming apart right with her.

Annabeth cried out and kissed him, holding on tight as they both came. Percy admired her expression, loving how vulnerable and intimate it was, something he had never seen before, and felt so gifted and honored to have had. He didn't even deserve her.

He spent about two minutes ravishing her neck and face. "That was—"

Percy rolled over onto his back and was about to pull her into his arms, but she sat up quickly instead. "A mistake," she cut him off.

The moment—the new best moment of his life ended.

He touched her shoulder, "Wise girl…"

"Did that just happen?" she weeped. "I can't believe I just did that."

Annabeth placed her hands over her face and her shoulder shook so much that he couldn't bear it. Seeing her cry made the guilt settle into his stomach. He wasn't exactly sure what to say. He was happy with what had happened, but not at the cost of hurting Bennett. All he thought about was her, and her alone.

"I don't think this was a mistake," he admitted. "We both feel something and—and we…"

She wiped the tears falling down her face, and his heart broke all over again. "It shouldn't have happened."

"We can talk about this," he tried.

"Can you please leave," she whispered.

"Annabeth—I love y—"

"Go!" She sobbed. "I can't—just please, Percy. Just go."

He pursed his lips and sought out for his clothes, leaving her to her thoughts and tears, unsure of where tomorrow would take them. But he sure wasn't going to make a mistake as to letting her go after that night. She wasn't getting away from him that easily, never again.


End file.
